


Disarm

by Sundance201



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: A little bit of bloodplay, F/M, Knifeplay, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundance201/pseuds/Sundance201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mischief and War go to bed together, there's bound to be a little blood spilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disarm

**Author's Note:**

> This was obviously inspired by THAT SCENE in the Thor: The Dark World trailer. It honestly turned out a lot fluffier than I was expecting, but I guess that's all right. I haven't written anything for these two in a very long time, so I hope that they're not wildly out of character! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me. The only knives I own are my kitchen knives.

A shadowy figure silently slipped into her room, clearly taking great pains to attempt to sneak up on her. If she weren't so focused on trying to look asleep, she would have snorted with amusement. It was quite clear who her nighttime visitor was – there was only one person in the whole of the Nine Realms who was idiotic enough to try and sneak into her room. He only insisted on doing it because he had been successful once and wished to repeat his triumph. He should have figured out by now that it would never work. 

She watched carefully through slitted eyes as the figure drew closer to her bed, waiting until the perfect moment to attack. She let him get close enough to think that he had been successful in sneaking up on her before springing into action. Jumping out of bed, she twisted Loki’s arm behind him and held a knife – his knife, the one she kept beneath her pillow – to his throat. He chuckled breathlessly at her sudden attack and she tugged on his arm, just enough to make the chuckle change to a hiss of pain. “You should know better by now, Loki. You were successful once. It means that you never will be again.”

“My lady,” he said, his voice utterly calm and courteous, as if every civil conversation started out with a knife to the throat, “I have no idea what you could be referring to. I simply was seeking out your company tonight. You seemed a bit tense in the sparring ring today…I thought I could help you relieve some of that tension.”

She pressed the knife against his throat with just a little bit of pressure; just enough to make him tilt his head forward slightly in order to avoid having her actually break skin. “Forgive me if I do not believe you, Silvertongue.” She released her hold on his arm and moved the knife away. “I know why you are truly here. Strip and get on the bed.”

He chuckled and did as she commanded, tossing his sleep clothes to the ground carelessly before crawling onto her massive bed. He lay down on his back with his hands behind his head, lazily grinning at her. She smiled wolfishly at him and tugged off her own sleeping tunic and leggings, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She kept a firm grip on the knife. 

Climbing onto the bed, she straddled Loki and grabbed a hold of his hands, pushing them up above his head, sinking into him fully, pinning him to the mattress. “Don’t move,” she whispered. They rarely engaged in actual bondage, it was far better to be free to move your limbs but choose not to. To have him submit to her like this never failed to get her blood boiling. 

She then brought her knife up to his face, letting the dull edge trace along his cheekbone. Instead of shying away as most would, he arched into the blade. Sif smiled. “Few would trust me enough to allow me this close with a knife. I could kill you.” She flipped the blade and now the sharpened tip ran along the side of his throat. Loki froze, his eyes blazing as he looked up at her. She didn't press enough to draw blood, careful with the amount of pressure on the delicate skin. 

“Few would let me this close period, Lady Sif. You of all people know that my strength does not necessarily lie in my steel.” His eyes flickered down briefly to his knife and she smiled wickedly at him, dragging the tip along his chest, adding just enough pressure to barely cut the skin. Loki hissed at the sting of the knife and then moaned as he looked down to Sif, who had shifted to lick at the thin cut. 

“Perhaps we are both fools then, my Prince,” she whispered, glancing up at him with far too much softness in her eyes. Their affection for each other was never spoken aloud and either would deny it fiercely if it was ever brought up in conversation. In the public eye, they were comrades at best, and quietly hostile at worst. But in the privacy of her chambers, even with a knife at his throat, Sif would play with the word ‘lover’ in her mind. 

She shifted backwards and for the first time since Loki entered her chambers, she could feel his hardness pressed against her backside. She grinned and scooted back further, hovering over his knees as she lightly dragged the knife down his torso and circled his belly button. Every now and then she would press just a little bit harder, causing him to bleed. Each time she did, she would bend and lap up the blood, the tang of it making her mouth water. 

“Sif,” he murmured breathlessly, his hips bucking up and his erection all but begging for her attention. 

“Yes, Loki?” she asked innocently, tracing the blade over his hipbone, smiling as he hissed. She moved up his body and pressed the blade to his throat, smiling wickedly as he bared his throat for her instinctively. “You need only ask for what you want, Silvertongue.”

“Put the knife down already,” he hissed in return and Sif grinned gleefully, immediately putting the knife on the side table, out of reach, before returning to the prone man on her bed, watching her hungrily. The cuts she had made on his body had already stopped bleeding, as shallow as they were, but remained red. She ran a finger along one on his chest and he hissed, pushing up against her thigh, begging her silently. 

She quickly took him in hand and guided herself down, not stopping until he was fully inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way. They seemed to be made for each other, a perfect fit. She bent over him, her hands on either side of his head and started to ride him roughly, purely taking her own pleasure from him. 

He grunted and whimpered beneath her, thrusting up into her desperately. He was much closer to his release than she was and Sif wasn't surprised when after only a few minutes, Loki’s head slammed back against her pillow and he groaned her name. She rode him through his release, smiling as she felt him pulsing within her. He finally relaxed beneath her and her grin only increased when he opened his eyes and beckoned to her slightly. She knew what he was asking and shifted, letting him slip out of her and she moved up his torso until she was hovering over his mouth. 

He grinned up at her briefly and then wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling her down to meet his mouth. Sif’s hands flew to her headboard to keep her balance as Loki’s tongue licked her relentlessly. He moaned beneath her and she echoed the noise, realizing that he was licking his own seed from within her. 

One hand moved from her hip to her center, his thumb circling her bundle of nerves there. Sif moaned and ground down on his face as he continued to play her body like an instrument. Finally, the coil inside her sprung and she cried out, her body stiffening and jerking above him. 

A few moments later, her climax had rolled through her and she relaxed, moving down his body again to curl against his side. She giggled drowsily and grabbed a corner of the sheet on her bed to wipe up the mixture of liquids on Loki’s face. He smirked as he wrapped his arm around her, keeping her close as they wiggled their way under the covers. “You’ll have to do some sort of spell to clean my sheets. Can’t have anyone asking questions,” she murmured, already half asleep. 

He chuckled. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow, Sif,” he whispered against her hair as she began snoring lightly.


End file.
